Amittere
by TheImperius
Summary: A tragic loss can make or break a person, you can either go forwards or backwards. A one-shot of the Malfoy's, before Draco's birth. Written from Lucius' perspective.


**A/N: So once again, I found myself musing over morbid fics. Not sure whether it's my current state of mind or me filling in the gaps of the Malfoy's because there is really little known of them. Maybe a bit of both... Anywho, can't call this canon because no-one really knows and it's not canon to my other fics but it is morbid, nothing terribly graphic but rather sad. Also to anyone who is reading my other fics, they haven't been abandoned, I'm working on them but my thought process was derailed because I thought they were going to be removed which they might still be but that's another story. **

**Disclaimer: I own none of this, it all belongs to our Queen, JK.**

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Lucius Malfoy was sitting in a stiff chair in the dark hallway of the upper level of Malfoy Manor. An eeiry darkness seemed to engulf him as he sat perfectly still, his elbows resting on his knees, head bowed and fingers laced together in a prayer like way. The only sign of life was his chest moving as he reminded himself to breathe. A scream from the room behind him made him cringe, again. His back was aching, his knees felt locked and he clenched his jaw for the time the bellowed agony sounded from the woman in the room behind him. Then, there was silence, but the sound still echo'ed through his head. It had done the entire time. It pained him greatly to hear the excruciating distress of his wife, but he knew there was nothing he could do to help. It had been hours since her water broke and labour began, he wasn't even sure how long it had been, all he knew was day had turned to night outside, but life within the extensive mansion was frozen in time at that very moment. He sat in the darkness, reflecting on the words his father had given him for this very day, _'Go down to your study, grab a bottle of fire whisky and wait. A nurse will fetch you when it's over'_... He despised his father for his lack of feeling as he mulled the speech bitterly over in his head. His words of wisdom were the last thing Lucius wanted to do. He was worried, and given the current situation, with good reason. He had organised the best medi-witches to be present for the birth of his first child and with any luck, the heir of the Malfoy Family. But the child was not his only concern, the welfare of its mother was also a great priority. He was not like his father in that sense, they were at polar ends of the universe on that topic. He did not view his wife, his Narcissa as a simple child-bearing being, unlike his father.  
_"What about Narcissa? What should I do for her?" _  
_"Nothing, let the nurses do it, as long as she produces a heathly heir, nothing else matters."_

He was brought out of his reverie by the loudest, most terrifying scream yet. The hairs all over his body stood on end and he couldn't tell whether the chair was shaking or it was just him. 'This must be it, it must be over?' He ignorantly thought to himself as the sound once again, ceased. He waited, on baited breath, for the faintest sound of movement inside the room, for another scream, for relieved medi-witches, for the cry of an infant... The darkness hung over his shaking body in the hallway as the ghosts of the screams of his beloved circled his head as he waited for more sound to pierce his ears. It came, but not in the way he wanted it to. He lifted his head as muffled cries could be heard through the door, but they were not the cries of a new born infant. He jumped to his feet and rushed to open the door and saw the horror that had unfolded. The cries were coming from his ghostly looking wife, he had never seen her so pale, a stark contrast to the blood soaked sheets that still surrounded her. Her hair was plastered to her face and neck through her physical excertion, but a baby no where in sight, until a nurse rushed past him out of the room carrying a bundle of white sheets. He felt ill and numb as the shock rained through his body. He walked, on stiff legs, to his wife's side where he sat on the bed next to her. Nurses scurried around the room with vials and flasks, one flicked her wand and the bloodied sheets turned white once more before they all left the room. He took Narcissa's hand as the door closed behind the last nurse, absolutely distraught. This is not what he had expected yet it was what he had feared. Narcissa could hardly move, she looked as though she were lying on her death bed as the tears that rolled down her face mixed with the sticky sweat. He couldn't bring himself to say anything, he feared his voice would crack displaying himself on the verge of tears, but he couldn't cry now. He would mourn the loss of a child he had not even met in his own time but at that moment, he needed to be strong for her. He squeezed her hand as she continued to sob between gasped breaths until she started muttering,

"It... It... was a girl... A... girl..." As the sobs wracked her slender frame. His heart clenched before sinking into his stomach at the sight of her dispair. It was then he realised he would have loved a daughter, a miniature Narcissa, what a doll she would have been. But he mentally shook himself, he couldn't think of that now. He needed to get Narcissa through this, he could think of himself later. He rose from the bed and exited the room only to see four grave looking nurses in the hallway. They all looked at the floor as Lucius closed the door behind him. He folded his arms across his chest, centred his body weight and stared at the four witches.

"Well?" Was all he managed, the eldest of the four and more than likely head nurse raised her head slightly.

"We... We tried everything we could," her voice was quivering, "It was a long and difficult labour, the child was ill positioned for delivery and wouldn't turn as was necessary. I'm sorry Mr Malfoy, but it died hours ago. There was nothing that could have been done without potentially killing Mrs Malfoy, and even then, there was still a chance the child would not have survived." As she finished she looked back to the floor. Lucius understood, he was sure they had done their best, now he didn't know what to do. He sighed deeply, still listening to his sobbing Narcissa.

"Just make her comfortable." He stated and the four witches scurried back into the room. He watched from the doorway as they mixed potions and passed vials, helping her drink two or three potions before they once again left the room as Narcissa's body stilled and her eyes slid shut. Finally, as she lay resting on the bed, oblivious to reality in her induced sleep, Lucius could breathe. The eldest nurse stepped forward and spoke over his shoulder.

"I'll be back in a few hours to check on her." He simply nodded and the medi-witches took it as their cue to leave. He closed the door and headed straight for his study, smirking to himself from the irony of Abraxas Malfoy's words, _'Go down to your study, grab a bottle of fire whisky and wait..._' This was the time, he decided, to act upon his father's advice. For now was not the time to sit and watch his wife as she slept, it was when she awoke from her state of oblivion that he would truely be needed, and tested, and until then he could think of no better way to drown his sorrows and mourn his loss, but he would be strong for her, and her only.

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**Reviews are always appreciated.**


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